


Stained

by charcoalmink



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2012-07-24
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charcoalmink/pseuds/charcoalmink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Motorkink prompt: "Shortly after Chuck and Mike became best bros for life, Chuck started to notice that Mike would randomly disappear for hours, only to come back covered in scratches. The burners assumed he was just going out and practicing his fighting move or something until Chuck stumbles upon what's actually happening. Turns out Mike actually falls into lapses of depression and is trying to scrub himself clean of Kane, literally.</p>
<p>Insert Chuck comforting Mike about his past and helping him out in whatever way he can."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained

**Author's Note:**

> Motorkink fill post [here](http://motorkink.dreamwidth.org/272.html?thread=394000#cmt394000)

At first, it was too awkward to ask about. They had only known each other for a few months and Chuck wasn’t sure if they were that close yet. (Mike implied that they were, but Chuck was nervous. He was _tentative_. Because he was Chuck and this was Mike and people like Mike weren’t friends with people like Chuck.)

After a while, Chuck figured it was something pretty, well, obvious. They were teenagers. It was normal. It was _biological_. Although, he always wondered why Mike didn’t just find himself a girl. It would be easy for someone like Mike.

But he wasn’t sure and the curiosity burned at him. It wasn’t searing, like a _need_ to know. But it was definitely at a constant simmer. He wondered, and he wasn’t sure if he was allowed. 

Maybe this was something Mike needed to keep to himself. Everyone had secrets and maybe this was his.

\---

It didn’t happen often.

Not often enough for anyone other than him and Julie to notice, anyway.

Quietly, privately, he’d asked Julie. She probably knew-- she was smart and she usually knew everything.

She hadn’t.

She’d shrugged and tapped her cheek, nose wrinkling and her eyes roaming skyward. She mused aloud about Mike’s welts, scratches made by blunt fingernails. She made a face when Chuck pointed out the reddened skin, inflamed and irritated.

“Training?” She ventured. She seemed concerned too, but had been strangely reluctant to ask Mike about it herself. She didn’t like prying. Chuck sort of understood because she was the most private out of the Burners.

He nodded and laughed, his voice stiff and lilting. “Yeah, probably.”

\---

It was entirely by accident that Chuck found out.

He hadn’t meant to be following Mike-- not really, anyway. He had just sort of... wandered... in the same direction... at coincidentally the same time..

_Stalking_ was too harsh of a word. Spying was even worse. Chuck liked to think of it as overseeing. Protecting.

He chanted the words in his mind, ignoring the sick feeling of guilt roiling in the pit of his stomach as he chased after Mike’s shadow.

After a while, Chuck realized Mike was headed for the showers. He stopped, hesitating outside the bathing complex. Was he really going to watch his best friend _bathe_? That was a level of creepy that he wasn’t sure if he could breach, no matter how much he wanted to know why Mike disappeared for hours on end.

He heard the water start up and Chuck jerked, taking half a step away. He could always just wait for Mike to emerge and _ask_ like a normal person. Like a normal friend.

“Why me,” Chuck moaned, grabbing handfuls of his hair and pulling them forward in distress as he slumped against the steel exterior. The walls were thin, made of flat sheets of metal jigsawed together to create some semblance of a building. He could hear the _shhh_ of water and the _ping ping ping_ s of stray droplets through the wall. 

He wondered how long Mike would take. His hair wasn’t very long and it wasn’t as if getting clean was terribly time-consuming either. Unless-- 

Chuck suddenly reddened, hopping frantically away when he realized he could probably hear everything. He wasn’t sure if he could survive listening to Mike--

“Oh god,” Chuck whimpered, voice jumping up an octave. He jumped from foot to foot, panicking silently. “Oh god oh god oh god.” Tearing at his hair, he whirled around and around, hoping no one was witnessing his embarrassingly and totally appropriate crisis.

“Maybe I should come back later,” he whispered loudly to a streetlamp. It didn’t answer, and Chuck made a miserable noise, shoving both his hands under his arms to keep from pulling at his hair any further. His scalp was getting sore.

“I’ll wait. I’ll wait over...” Chuck looked around and quickly dashed across the street towards a sad pile of steel drums. “Here. Here is good.”

\---

Chuck wished he had more courage. He wished he had enough to barge into the showers and confront his seriously naked best friend and ask why he’d been in there for almost two hours.

He kicked his legs up in the air, swinging them back down and denting the steel surface with his heels. He drummed his fingers and chewed viciously on his lip, debating the pros and cons of risking the trauma that would unfold upon bursting in on Mike.

Perhaps he was taking so long because he was, uh, taking care of business.

“No,” Chuck whined, dropping his face into his hands. He inhaled loudly and noisily, breath whistling as he tried to convince himself that it wasn’t a big deal. He was just going to make sure Mike didn’t drown. In the bathing complex. In an inch of water.

Right.

Swinging off his perch, Chuck set a punishing march across the road and through the empty, dusty space in front of the building. He made himself pass through the open doorway, confronting steam and hot, humid air. He didn’t let himself stop until he saw the wet flop of Mike’s hair through the plumes of foggy white, determinedly ignoring the thundering of his heart against his ribs. He could feel the burning in his face, knowing his cheeks were cherry-red, but at least his hair covered the worst of it.

He was as quiet as he could manage, not really wanting to be secretive, but he didn’t want to alert Mike too early either. Chuck’s sneakers squeaked against the tiles, but it was drowned out by sound of the shower. He drifted to the side, hesitantly stepping closer, enough so he could see Mike through the rising steam. 

Chuck squinted, feeling ten levels of Extremely Disturbing as he watched Mike...

wash his arms. 

That was it. It was mechanical. Back and forth, rubbing a bright orange loofah over his forearms.

Back and forth and back and forth and _back_ and _forth_ \--

“Mike!”

Chuck reacted before he could fully register what he was doing, stumbling forward and flailing at the loofah. Mike turned in alarm, but Chuck wasn’t looking at his face. He grabbed both wrists, pulling hard so that Mike’s arms were extended. His left arm was a flaming, angry red and his right was quickly approaching the same condition. In fact, he could see small pinpricks of blood rising to the surface, not breaking the skin, but close. If Mike had continued, he’d be a gory mess.

“Uh,” Mike cleared his throat, tugging his arms back gently. “Chuck? What are you doing?”

Instantly, Chuck became aware of the absurdity of the situation, stammering and gesturing wildly. “Well I-- I could ask you the same thing!” He pointed an accusatory finger at Mike’s chest, trying for intimidating.

Mike raised his eyebrows, visible from the way his hair fell in chunks over his forehead. “I’m taking a shower,” he said. He laughed, but it sounded odd, like it got caught in his throat halfway. 

“I can see that!” Chuck really wished his face would stop feeling hot. (Maybe it was from the heat of the water, yeah.) “But you’re-- don’t you think that’s enough?” He pointed at Mike’s arms and after a beat, his shoulders. “Any more and you’ll be skinning yourself.”

Mike jerked his shoulders up and down in a dismissive shrug. “It’s fine, Chuck. Don’t worry about it.” 

“But you’re--”

“I’m _okay_ , alright?” Mike’s voice was sharp that time. It was a tone that none of the Burners ever  really heard. At least, directed towards them.

Chuck floundered. Then, “Is that why you’re gone so long all the time?” he blurted, unable to help himself.

Mike looked surprised, as if he genuinely hadn’t thought that anyone would notice. For a moment, he looked like he was going to answer, but he just shrugged again.

“Why?” Chuck pushed back his bangs, wet and clinging to his cheeks now, making it hard to see.

Mike dropped his gaze, fidgeting with the loofah, tossing it from hand to hand. “You know, just, trying to get clean.” His voice was light but strained, like he was running out of breath.

“Uh, dude, I think you’re clean enough.” Chuck started, but Mike cut him off, “No I’m not.”

Mike startled, freezing and looking stunned with himself. Chuck felt a rising tension, the sense that he was somehow not fully comprehending the conversation. It was a familiar feeling, but it usually involved Claire and Julie. It was never him and Mike. He and Mike _always_ understood each other.

“What?” Chuck tried, helplessly rushing to keep up.

“Never mind.” Mike reached out to shut off the water, but Chuck grabbed his arm again, careful not to grip too hard.

“Hey. Give me a chance.” Chuck wanted to understand. He wanted to help Mike in the way that Mike always helped him. “Look, if it’s a virus or a skin disease or something, I can help. I’m good at research. I can look stuff up or--”

“Chuck,” Mike had that sad look on him, the one he made whenever he felt like he’d failed. But the corner of his lips was curled upwards in an attempt at a smile. “I’m not...” his face crumbled a bit, “Ill.”

“Well what is it then?” Chuck forced a goofy smile and gestured to himself. “You’re not really any dirtier than I am.” 

Mike’s face did a strange spasm, before settling on something between stricken and blank. He almost looked like he was trying to pretend he wasn’t in pain.

“Mike, dude, you’re scaring me.” Chuck leaned past his friend and turned the knob, immediately stopping the flow of water pounding down behind Mike.

“Sorry. I, uh,” Mike looked away again, staring at his hands, empty this time. Chuck noticed the loofah lying by their feet.

“You want to go for a ride?” 

Mike raised his head, staring at Chuck and looking vaguely perplexed at the sudden change in topic. “What?”

Chuck smiled sheepishly and tugged at the ends of his hair. “You can tell me then? Or not, you know, whatever’s cool.” He clapped his hand over Mike’s wet shoulder, allowing his grin to spread wider. “Just want to make sure you’re okay. Okay?”

Breathing deeply, Mike held it in his chest for several seconds before exhaling silently. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “Yeah.” He seemed to think about it, then nodded more emphatically. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Chuck’s shoulders relaxed, releasing the tension he hadn’t known he was carrying. “Cool. Now I’m going to leave while you get dressed and try to forget we just had a heart to heart while you were totally naked.”

He marched back out to the sound of Mike’s laughter, brittle but still there.


End file.
